Buckbeak
by Mr Bellatrix Lestrange
Summary: Harry forces Draco to make civil with Buckbeak after the War. Drarry drabble, including lots of fluffiness.


"Harry, this is stupid. He's a creature, not an elf, he won't understand a word I'm saying - much less remember me."

"Have a little faith, love." Harry said, reeling Draco in for a kiss. The two of them walked together, hand in hand, into the dark forest they hadn't returned to in years. Everything seemed to be covered with a thin sheen of frost, giving the appearance of a Wonderland - or else, something that hadn't been visited in a long time. It was all so pristine, almost unreal. Occasionally some flakes of snow would fall from above, but aside from that everything was virtually motionless. "Buckbeak is the smartest creature I know; he knew to attack your arrogant arse, after all."

"Oh ha ha." Draco returned ruefully, "Make fun of Draco-in-the-past, why don't you. I guess this means that you're dumber than a hippogriff. _He _never shacked up with me."

"And a good thing." Harry said absentmindedly, arms swinging between them. "I get terribly jealous."

"I needed a reminder," Draco scoffed, leaning in closer to his lover. "Is the paddock much farther? It's rather chilly out, and I'm sure you'd love to help warm me up."

"Quit teasing, we wouldn't want to scar Buckbeak. Besides, after the War, the hippogriffs all moved closer to the heart of the woods." The forest floor was beginning to level out, and the crunching of leaves beneath their feet seemed to mute. Harry knew they'd be closer, now, to the clearing where Hagrid said Buckbeak and his herd lived.

Harry began to hear the low 'cluck cluck' of the creatures, and before long they were visible, milling around and tossing their eagle heads. Next to him, Draco tensed, stoic mask put into place.

"You're not nervous, are you?" Harry asked, gauging the blond briefly before turning back to look at the flapping wings of the beasts before them, and their multicoloured feathers mixing with fur. After the War, he'd of course visited Hagrid, and thanked Buckbeak for his services. But it wasn't a grandeur meeting, simply that of going to Hagrid's hut like he had gone for years before. Refusing rock cakes, taking tea, if only for the purpose of not being rude. Then he'd gone, and it'd been so long since his return - he knew he'd been hiding from the painful memories too.

Seeing the hippogriffs now, their revival and recovery - how they moved on and were once again the majestic, graceful creatures that they were - was like a good omen. It filled Harry with a type of joy that he'd been unable to find anywhere outside of Draco for a while.

Draco gnawed on his lip. Shaking his head, he mumbled, "The last time I saw him..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. "Draco..." Harry cooed. "You've both changed _so_ much."

"I know - " Draco started, exasperatedly.

"But... But you have so much in _common_. You're both proud creatures. You both _despise_ insults."

Draco rolled his eyes, dropping Harry's hand from his. The corners of his mouth were beginning to rise, though, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it.

"I see that _smile._" Harry chuckled, grabbing Draco by the arms and pulling him out of his stiff position. He began to sway, in a poorly-timed waltz. The two were soon spinning before the group of hippogriffs, working out the anxious energy that Draco had produced. "You both have given me excitement, and joy. But... also fear, and protection.

"And I've had to save both of you quite a few times..." he said, laughing once again as Draco began to grin cheekily. Harry sent the man on a twirl before catching him in his arms, and whispering, quite sober, "you've both been prisoners in a place you've called home."

In the dip, the two met each others eyes. Acting on impulse, Harry leaned down, and his lips met their pale comparison. The kiss they shared was slow, and passionate. One that held lots of promises and secrets. It was sweet and quiet, and it was surreal because of the situation they were in, but it was good. It was love.

When Harry righted his partner, he pointed to the lone hippogriff, who was waiting to meet them. "Looks like Buckbeak is ready to make amends as well," he said quietly, nudging Draco forward. With a nervous glance, Draco took the lead and bowed low, waiting for the last of his sins to be purged, for the last mistake of his old life to be corrected.

And the bow with which Buckbeak returned was one that symbolically righted all the wrongs.


End file.
